


in the city where the sun don't set

by ourlovelybones



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Kinda, M/M, Soft One-Shot, adventure-filled au, prepare yourselves for the slow-burn, slow-burn, something soft, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourlovelybones/pseuds/ourlovelybones
Summary: summer nights are for going on adventures -- the one where even meets isak in church, and doesn't want to stop spending time with him.





	in the city where the sun don't set

**Author's Note:**

> i once told a friend of mine that i would write her a happy story. she proceeded to ask: "do you even know how to be happy?"  
> short answer, no. but long answer, here's a story i wrote :)
> 
> this is for a different friend. i think you guys know her better by cuteandtwisted. she inspires me a lot, so i hope this inspires her out of the heavy winter's funk. alt er love <3
> 
> "she used to meet me on the eastside, in the city where the sun don't set"

It starts with a hot summer Sunday in the beginning of June.

Isak Valtersen never cared much for Church. Ever since he was a kid, he dreaded waking up early to put on a nice pair of pants, a button-down, and clean shoes that weren’t his beloved Adidas. He dreaded the service; hearing the pastor preach about good and evil, wrong and right, saints and sinners. He dreaded the silence that enveloped the room when people kneeled down to start praying.

He dreaded that he had no God to believe in and no empty wishes or self-indulgent desires to pray for.

So, the summer he returns home from university, Isak makes a vow that he’s going to stop attending Church with his mother until he has something to believe in. The last Church service he attends where he makes this vow, a boy with electrifying blue eyes and soft blond hair is watching him from a distance, sitting quietly in the last pew.

Halfway through the middle of service, Isak realizes he cannot stand this much longer. He can’t sit amongst these people without wanting to scream, _the Church is an institution, we’re already in hell – we can’t be punished much more than this!_ And such a temper tantrum would cause his mother her own mental breakdown and it’s really not worth such a _scene_ , so Isak simply stands up and leaves.

Unaware that the boy with the pretty blue eyes stands up and follows him out.

Isak takes his time going towards the stairwell, running his finger along the richly painted murals lining the wall. He admires the artwork he’s never cared too much to notice before, the vibrant and illuminating colors depicting religious stories he’s long since forgotten about.

“Do you like them?”

Isak jumps back, startled by the new voice. Even Bech-Næsheim is standing right behind him, wearing a black blazer in the middle of June.

The last time Isak had seen Even was in his philosophy class back at university, almost two weeks ago. Isak always sat in the same seat, five rows back from the lecture stage at the end of the aisle so he could pack his things and go quickly. Even moved around often, sitting in the row in front of Isak some days and behind Isak the rest of the time. Their conversations were never substantial, only one of them asking the other for a pencil when the sign-in sheet came around.

The one time they had said more than five words to each other was on a random day in May. Even had passed the younger boy the sign-in sheet and a pencil without being prompted and asked,

_“Hey, did we have any reading homework due today?”_

_Isak looked over his shoulder at the other boy. He had on a black leather jacket, despite it being the 16 th of May. “No, it’s just the guest speaker coming in.”_

_“Sweet. Thanks, Isak.”_

_It was all Isak could do not to blush that Even cared enough to know his name. “Anytime.”_

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Even grins.

“Uh, you didn’t really, I mean, it’s okay.” Isak stammers, praying his cheeks aren’t ruby red. Underneath his black blazer, Even’s got on a white t-shirt that does more for Isak’s imagination than it should.

In _Church._

“I just didn’t hear you.”

“You looked like you were in a trance. You like art?”

Isak snorts unattractively, then promptly wishes he could drop dead. “No, not even close.”

“Ah. Well I think you’re a masterpiece.”

Even says this so casually, his eyes still fixated on the painting, as if this is something you can just say without any explanation. In _Church_.

“Are you flirting with me?” He finds the courage to ask, before he can tell himself to shut up.

Even chuckles and finally locks eyes with Isak. “I’ve been trying to since the beginning of the semester.”

Shock coats Isak’s tongue and the only thing he can blurt out is, “What the fuck?”

Even smirks. “You can’t really find that hard to believe.”

“Are you kidding me?” Isak’s sass finds his way back to his bloodstream. “We’ve never even spoken to each other.”

“Not true! Our stimulating conversations about pencils really held me over in our philosophy class. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve fallen asleep in every lecture.”

Isak nods slowly. “You’re full of shit.”

Even laughs again, a hearty sound that comes from the bottom of his stomach, like the June sun has begun to shine across his face. Isak feels the corners of his lips turn upwards. “Okay, maybe a little bit. I did want to talk to you though! There was just never a perfect time.”

“Now there is.” Isak says lamely, trying to keep his cool. In _Church._ “Is your family religious?”

“Not exactly. They can’t be bothered to get up before noon half of the time.”

“So why are you here?” Isak asks before he can stop himself. His mouth seems to be running on auto-pilot.

Even shrugs. “I was bored and in the area.”

“And you thought coming to _Church_ would cure your boredom?”

“Well.” Even gives him a once-over, his eyes slowly trailing Isak’s body. “I met you, didn’t I?”

 

_step up the two of us, nobody knows us_

_get in the car like “skrrt”_

 

They end up smoking a joint outside, far enough away from the sacred grounds and far enough away from public view, on a bench. Isak’s mother texts him, each message going ignored, as they bake in the summer sun.

“I’ve been trying this thing this summer where I go to one new place a day for an adventure.” Even explains. “Yesterday, it was this art museum on the other side of town that I’ve always thought of as too pretentious to go inside.”

Isak just watches him, inhaling and exhaling. “Do you feel better about yourself now?”

“Your sarcasm is _duly_ noted, Valtersen.” Even takes back the joint, a smirk gracing his lips. “But yes. I feel amazing.”

Isak swallows the words he wants to say back. Swallows down the questions he’s been dying to ask _someone_ since arriving at Church this morning.

Instead he looks at Even, watching him hold the joint between his fingers like he’s fucking James Dean, and says, “You’re full of shit.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Isak would blame the summer sun on his face for the crimson color on his cheeks, but never would he ever admit that Even’s knee being so close to his – made his heart skip a few beats.

 

_staying up all night, order me pad thai_

_then we gon’ sleep ‘til noon_

“What song is this?”

Even’s eyes go comically wide. His side of the headphones nearly falls out of his ear as he dramatically contorts his body in shock. “What? Isak, you can’t tell me you’ve never heard this song before.”

“I seriously have not heard this song before.”

“Do you live under a rock? Gabrielle is the most incredible pop-star in the _world_.”

“Oh. That’s why. I have _taste_.”

“And _I’m_ the pretentious one?”

Maybe it’s the joint, maybe it’s the summer, maybe it’s the fact that his mother has _finally_ stopped texting him that prompts Isak to poorly imitate Even’s posh accent, “ _I’ve been trying this thing this summer where I go to one new place a day for an adventure.”_

Even tips his head back and laughs, that hearty sound that makes Isak’s knees go a bit weak, even if they’re currently sitting on a bench. Isak’s spoken to Even all of twenty minutes of his life, but in this minute he’s sure: he would do _anything_ to see Even laugh like this forever.

“You’re going to have to promise to come with me on at least one of them, you know.” Even says seriously, fixating on him with those bright baby blues.

 _What, this isn’t?_ Isak would’ve asked once upon a time. He can barely hide his grin as he raises his eyebrow. “Even if it’s to a fucking _Gabrielle_ concert?”

“ _Especially_ if it’s to a Gabrielle concert!”

Isak snorts and leans back in the most charismatic manner he can, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well I bet I can get us backstage then.”

“Oh really? How?”

“I’ll just flash the drummer.”

Even bursts out laughing, his face lighting up like the sun - and it’s _still_ the hot summer air that’s making Isak blush like cherry wine, _thank you very much._

 

_me with no makeup, you in the bathtub_

_bubbles and bubbly, ooh_

“I’m kidding, you know.”

“What?”

“I would never flash the drummer. My best friend’s ex-girlfriend almost did once, though, at a dubstep concert we were all at. She’s naturally very pretty so everyone just falls in love with her.”

“Hm. Are you in love with her?”

“Nah, she’s my buddy. We were good friends even before she started dating Jonas.”

“Does she go to our school?”

“Yeah. She’s an English Literature major.”

“Ew.”

“That’s what I said. What are you studying?”

“Film and media studies. You?”

“Chemistry and biology.”

“I bet one day you’re gonna discover some insane gene that stops you from gaining weight or something.”

“I bet one day you’re going to write an Oscar-winning film. If you stop listening to fucking Gabrielle.”

 

_this is a pleasure, feel like we never_

_act this regular_

“I almost didn’t come to Church today.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have anything to believe in.”

It’s the most honest he’s been in months, lying down on some bench with a stranger from his philosophy class. Sharing headphones as they stare at the clouds, their fingers on their chest, tapping along to the beats. _I don’t have anything to believe in. I don’t even know if I want anything to believe in anymore. I can’t even remember the last time I believed in myself._

“You shouldn’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Even says.

Perfect words. No questions asked, no solutions offered. Just advice. Just perfect words from a perfect stranger.

“I’m glad I did.”

 

_click, click, click and post_

_drip-drip-dripped in gold_

“Me too, Isak.”

 

_quick, quick, quick let’s go_

_kiss me and take off your clothes_

 

By the time Isak finally reconnected with his mother, somewhat apologizing for going MIA in the middle of service, he’s come back down to Earth as she starts admonishing him and guilt-tripping him. _You left me all alone! What if you never came back, like your father? How am I supposed to pray for you when you act like this?_

He starts remembering why summers are so hard sometimes. Coming home to a place he’s never felt wanted and dreaming of the days he can finally pack his bags and settle somewhere new.

But at least this summer he has Even Bech-Næsheim’s phone number.

 

_imagine a world like that_

_imagine a world like that_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (19:51): Are you busy right now?_

Five days later on a Friday night, Isak was, in fact, very busy enjoying the few precious moments he had the whole house to himself. His mother was visiting her own mother in the northern part of the region and wouldn’t be home until well after midnight.

_Isak Valtersen (19:52): Hm. Define busy?_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (19:54): Listening to Gabrielle on repeat._

Isak had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table, ready to cue up _Romeo + Juliet_ on the big TV screen. The Baz Luhrmann MTV-style version Even hadn’t stopped raving about on Sunday.

_Isak Valtersen (19:56): Haha. Then I am very much not busy._

_Even Bech-Næsheim (19:57): Great :) Come meet me at Brattle._

_Isak Valtersen (19:59): The bookshop…?_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (20:00): Yes_

Isak’s already got his shoes on and his tram pass in hand when the other boy’s text comes through.

 

_we go like up til I’m sleep on your chest_

_love how my face fits so good in your neck_

Even is waiting outside for him when Isak arrives, leaning against the glass windows under the night sky.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Even says with a smile, opening the door.

“So why are we meeting at a bookstore?”

“You can learn a lot about a person by the kinds of books they read. What’s your favorite book?”

Isak eyes him warily. “What’s yours?”

“I asked first.”

“Promise you won’t judge?”

“Based on how hard you judged me for liking Gabrielle?” Even chuckles. “Yeah, no promises.”

Isak rolls his eyes dramatically. “Fine. I guess I deserve it. It’s _The Song of Achilles._ You ever heard of it?”

“Have I ever _heard_ of it? My God, it’s one of my favorites.”

“So what does that say about me?”

“That you have taste.”

Isak snorts. “What’s your favorite book?”

“Promise you won’t judge?” Even asks in a horrible imitation of Isak’s voice.

Isak rolls his eyes so hard they almost get stuck to the top of his head.

“Alright, alright!” Even holds his hands up in surrender with a grin. “My mom used to read it to me all the time when I was younger, so you really can’t judge. It’s called _Memoirs of an Imaginary Best Friend_.”

“Is it about an imaginary best friend?”

“God, you’re clever. You must’ve aced that Philosophy final, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off, that was the worst exam I’ve ever taken in my life and I never want to talk about it again.”

“That essay question stumped you too?”

“Yes!” Isak exclaims, sitting down in a big comfy chair next to the Young Adult literature. Even sits down beside him. “We have _never_ gone over the Cosmological Arguments before. I emailed him the next day about it.”

“Really? What did you say?”

“That he’s actually insane for giving us that question without proper warning or study material. Bastard never emailed me back.”

“At least you tried.”

“So what’s the story behind _Memoirs of an Imaginary Best Friend_? Why is it your favorite out of, I don’t know. _Northanger Abbey?”_

“It’s about an imaginary best friend.”

“No, really?”

“Dude, really.”

Isak stares at him, raising one eyebrow. “You’re full of shit.”

Even laughs that heavenly laugh and proceeds to ignore his jab. “It’s told from the perspective of the imaginary best friend about the kid he’s attached to. The kid has developmental problems, which makes him difficult to be around other kids, but the imaginary best friend – his name is Budo – loves the shit out of him. He’s terrified for the day that Max – that’s the kid – will forget about him. That will mean he disappears forever.”

“God, that’s depressing.”

Even shrugs. “I think it’s beautiful.”

“What does that say about you?”

“I’m the coolest guy ever and you should be amazed of how you’ve lived this much of your life without knowing me.”

Isak rolls his eyes for the third time in the past ten minutes. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“Someone has to.” Even winks, grabbing Isak’s hand and pulling him up. “Come on. We’re going on adventure.”

“In a _bookstore_?”

“That’s where all the adventures are.”

 

_why can’t you imagine a world like that?_

_imagine a world_

“Won’t they be closing soon?” Isak asks, a lifetime later after they’ve made their way through all of the adventure stories and biographies of famous world-travelers. Isak began to sense a pattern in their exploration until Even suddenly dragged him over to the cookbook sections, sitting down in the middle of the aisle and flipping through the pages until he found a specific recipe.

“Probably.” Even responds, still engrossed in the cooking instructions.

“So how long are we staying?”

“Until they kick us out. Now pay attention to this recipe.”

“It’s for chocolate chip cookies. Those are the easiest delicacies in the world.”

“Nuh-uh. I always fuck them up.”

“How do you fuck up chocolate chip cookies?”

“Not everyone’s perfect like you, Isak.”

Normally when his friends spit that sentence out at him, it’s after he’s received a high mark on his term paper he didn’t study for. After a successful night out when he goes home hand in hand with someone he never means to see again. But never with the same fondness he hears laced in Even’s voice, or the same tender touch of his hand on his knee. He’s flustered.

To say the very least.

It’s why he lets Even sit there, pouring over this simple chocolate chip cookie recipe, even after the same employee reminds them five times that the store is closing. Waits until Even gingerly puts the cookbook back in its place at 21:21 and looks over to him, “Are you hungry?”

Isak’s not nearly ready for the night to be over. “Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

“Chocolate chip cookies.”

 

_knew you were perfect, after the first kiss_

_take a deep breath like “hoo”_

They spend lots of their summer nights like this; Even texting Isak around 21:00 and inviting him out to random places around town. They had places to go, adventures to be on, the older boy would justify.

And Isak never refuses him. For Even to laugh that beautiful laugh, he’d do almost anything.

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:00): Wanna go to the movies?_

_Isak Valtersen (21:01): Sounds fun. What did you want to see?_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:02): Anything. You pick._

_Isak Valtersen (21:03): So much pressure._

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:04): The weight of the world now lies on your shoulders. Choose wisely!_

_Isak Valtersen (21:04): Ahdjsfjfgpeipowi_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:05): I don't think I’ve heard of that one before. Send me a link to the trailer?_

_Isak Valtersen (21:06): It’s really great! Here you go:<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cyk7utV_D2I>_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:09): LMAO_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:09): That was the best thing I’ve ever seen_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:09): You have the best taste in movies_

_Isak Valtersen (21:10): Haha :)_

_Isak Valtersen (21:10): Meet me at the cinema in 10. You know where it is?_

_Even Bech-Næsheim (21:11): Yeah. Be there in 10 :)_

 

_feels like forever, baby, I never_

_thought that it would be you_

“You’re my favorite human.”

Isak tries to play off his elated ego with a cool smirk when he catches up to the older boy in front of the cinema. “You’ll be my favorite once you film the same video and get even _more_ views.”

“Isn’t her video the most-viewed cinnamon challenge of all time?”

They take their time walking to the queue. “You’re an attractive boy. I’m sure you’ll be able to get even more views if you really put your mind to it.”

Even dramatically lays a hand on his heart. “Did you just call me attractive?”

Isak’s secretly dying inside but he’s the _master_ of having game. He’s not just going to sit by idly while Even steals his common sense. “You’re not ugly.”

“Thanks Isak, that really means a lot to me. You know you’re not ugly either.”

“Glad we’ve established this. Do you have a preference for what film?”

“What do you want to see?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to see?”

“Hm. Whatever you wanna see.”

“That depends on what you wanna see.”

“Only if you tell me what you -“

“Just see the new Marvel movie.” The frustrated and exhausted cashier all but cries out. “Everyone’s going to see it, it’s going to be a hit. You’ll love it.”

Isak and Even exchange a look.

_Hm. Do you wanna see it?_

_Depends. Do you wanna see it?_

_We’re on an adventure tonight. I guess we gotta see it._

“Sure. Two tickets for that please.” Even says with a grin, and Isak’s heart nearly flutters out his chest.

 

_tell me your secrets, all of the creep shit_

_that’s how I know it’s true_

“Happy birthday Isak!”

It’s 21:21 on the 21st of June and Even Bech-Næsheim’s in front of him, with a store-bought birthday cake and a red plastic balloon. It’s the most endearing sight he’s ever seen, even if his aunt brought his chubby baby cousin over, who could barely walk but could shriek, _Happy birthday Eeee-sockkk!!!_

“How did you know it was my birthday?” Isak stares wide-eyed at the birthday cake and the boy holding it, in front of the water sprinklers he used to love running around in during the summers when he was growing up. It’s still twilight out and warm enough for Isak to blame the weather on his rosy, rosy cheeks.

“Because I’m the world’s best detective. Blow out your candles.” Even instructs him. “And make a wish.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “I wish you would tell me how you knew it was my birthday.”

He blows out the candles. _I wish this summer would never end and I could spend every night with you._

“Because I’m the world’s best detective! And because we’re Facebook friends.” Even smirks before frowning. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“I may or may not have fucked up.”

“No one’s ever done something this nice for me before.” Isak laughs. He finally sits down on the bench next to Even and swipes his finger along the frosting of the cake. “I promise you couldn’t possibly fuck anything up at this point.”

“Even if I forgot the forks and knife to cut the cake? And napkins. And fuck – I forgot to bring fucking plates so we could eat off of them. Fucking shit, I can’t believe –“

Despite all the little children running around, the shocked parents gaping at Even’s unsavory language, Isak’s heart starts melting like the ice cream in Even’s lap.

And a dumb, but _brilliant_ idea crosses his mind.

“Hey, let me hold it for a second, I think I know a way we can work this out.” Isak lifts the cake up from Even’s hands for a moment, before he promptly smashes the cake in Even’s face.

Even gasps loudly, his hands rubbing his eyes furiously. “Isak!”

Isak can barely breathe with how hard he’s begun laughing, the kind where his stomach starts cramping and tears start forming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Even’s just staring at him with those bright, bright blue eyes and it only _just_ starts to hit Isak at what an _asshole_ move that was. Here Even was, buying him a nice ice-cream cake for his birthday in the middle of summer, and Isak just _wasted_ it by smashing it in his face.

“Wait, yo, I’m really sorry –“

“Oh yeah, you’re going to pay for that.” Even tells him, but a mischievous glint has sparked in his eyes and that familiar smirk has graced his lips – the one that makes Isak a bit wary.

He grabs Isak’s hand and immediately runs towards the sprinklers, that have now lit up in blue and pink and purple flashing lights. Isak’s dragging his feet along, still laughing so hard he can’t breathe, as Even pulls them in front of the warm water jets. Normally, he hates being stared at in public. He hates it when Mamma makes a scene and everyone stares at them and he wants nothing more than to just go back home and hide under his covers forever.

But tonight, he’s fine with all the wide-eyed stared from the little children running and screaming around them, the horrified stares from the other parents around. As long as Even’s smiling like this, it was totally worth ditching the boys tonight.

 

_baby, direct it, name in the credits_

_like the movies do_

“Are we really about to learn Spanish?”

Even grins when Isak finally arrives, ten minutes later than he meant to. “Sí, mi amigo.”

“But why?” Isak whines as Even holds the door open for him.

“So we can communicate in our own language and no one understands.”

Isak has endured enough of Even’s romantic innuendos to stop flaring up like a tomato every time he says the smallest thing that could be perceived as flirty. After his birthday, he’s even started flirting _back._ “If we’re ever speaking in Spanish, around Spanish-speaking people, it won’t be our own little language.”

“If you were so against this idea, why did you come?”

“I’m not against it! I’m just trying to figure out how your dramatic mind works.”

“Dramatic or genius?” Even shrugs, pulling out his phone. “Hm. We need to find classroom 93.”

“What if people we know are here?” Isak scratches behind his ear.

“Are you afraid of them seeing you here?” Even asks, glancing at him briefly. In the few weeks he’s _really_ known Even, he’s never quite seen the other boy unconfident. “With me?”

“Not with you. Never with you.” Isak reassures him with a sheepish smile.

“Are you afraid of looking like a nerd?”

“Afraid of looking like a nerd? I’m a fucking Chemistry major, I’m already a nerd.”

“Ah you’re right.” Even chuckles. “You are a nerd so you should love this.”

“Again, why are we learning a language more than 430 million people speak fluently?”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to do something ridiculous? Something impulsive and completely benign?” Even asks as they creep closer and closer to classroom 93. “One day, maybe I’ll be asked to promote my film at the Madrid International Film Festival and I’ll feel like an idiot because I won’t know a lick of Spanish.”

Isak looks at him dubiously. “So going on this ‘adventure’ to a Spanish language learning class _once_ in the middle of the summer semester is going to teach you all the words you need to know to promote your film at the Madrid International Film Festival.”

They’ve finally stopped in front of Classroom 93, where a bunch of other _older_ -looking adults are seated inside.

Even raises his eyebrows. “So you’ve never, ever done something for the sake of just wanting to do it?”

Isak frowns. “What do you mean?”

Even stares at him intently with those blue eyes. “ _Voy a besar ahora.”_

Isak’s frown only deepens. “What? You already know Spanish?”

Even chuckles again and just grabs Isak’s hand. “Come on in, I’ll teach you everything I know.”

 

_click, click, click and post,_

_drip-drip-dripped in gold_

And then one night, they go on an adventure in Even’s bedroom.

Even had called him early that day, close to the crack of dawn in Isak’s opinion. They had a special day planned, Even had said, and Isak needed to put on clothes and meet him outside.

Isak strolled out of his bed twenty minutes later, around 10:30am, with a scowl etched across his forehead. “Where the hell are we going that we needed to wake up _this_ early for?”

“Everywhere!”

And it really felt like _everywhere_. They took a train up to the beach, Isak shamelessly leaning on Even’s shoulder as he pretended to try and sleep. They walked along the pebbles and ate strawberry ice cream cones, while talking about absolutely nothing. _What are your favorite childhood memories? If you could have dinner with any superhero, would you call me?_

The sun illuminated Even’s fluffy blond hair, his eyes the same color as the waves coming into the shore. Isak thinks love is silly and pretentious, a Hollywood fable that they’ve been mercilessly profiting off of for decades, but he sure believes in Even Bech-Næsheim.

They left the beach in favor for a carnival arcade on the pier and Even promised to win him a stuffed animal. Isak promised to not to chuck it into the water.

It was light and it was breezy and Isak didn’t check his phone once. Not as they left the pier in favor for an American-style diner across the street. Not after they took the next train back into town and went to the movies, Isak’s knee bumping against Even’s. Their shoulders brushed against each other.

After movies comes the beer Even promises to buy Isak for not complaining the _entire_ time they were at the beach. After beer comes the part Isak’s not quite used to.

Even invites him over and there’s not really much left to the imagination when it comes to adventures in the bedroom. He’s never been _friends_ with someone like Even before. Jonas would never understand, Mahdi would laugh in his face, and Magnus would be sucking face with Vilde somewhere. Forgive him if he’s tense, if he’s confused on what he could possibly offer someone who’s shown him a whole new world in the matter of two months.

“I moved in here last year because I couldn’t stand university housing.” Even explains, introducing Isak into the small apartment. It’s got a kitchen to his left side, complete with a microwave, a refrigerator, and a stove, and the bathroom to his right. In front of him is the living room with a small television and a black couch, a gorgeous view of the city peering in through the open windows.

Isak doesn’t let his eyes travel towards the door on the other side of the bathroom.  

“It’s nice.” He says earnestly, hanging by the front door. The beer is sloshing violently through his system and he’s almost too embarrassed to excuse himself for the third time in a half an hour to the bathroom.

Even moves at ease, slinging off his shoes by the couch and his thin jacket on top of the desk by the TV stand. _Is this where he removes his own clothes, makes himself at home in a home that is not his? Can he risk another beer or will he actually piss his pants?_

“You can come in, you know.” Even says with a light chuckle. “Promise I don’t bite.”

_Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean????_

Isak moves into the apartment slowly, letting the door close behind him. He slowly kicks off his shoes and walks another two steps into the room.

“Are you okay, Isak?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m totally fine. All good.” Isak blurts out. His drunken stupor makes him think he’s acting cool right now. Totally suave.

Even raises his eyebrow. Isak wonders if he practices that in front of the mirror, running his hands through his hair with a cigarette behind his ear.

As he’s all but gawking at Even, he finally begins to realize the older boy was saying something to him.

“What?”

Even chuckles. “You’re really out of it, aren’t you?”

“Not even close.” And to prove his point, he walks another two steps into Even’s apartment. He’s crossed the threshold now, moving from the walkway into the living room, but all of his efforts go unnoticed when he stumbles slightly.

“I’m going to get you some water.” Even says with a smile, tapping Isak’s arm as he brushes past him into the kitchen.

Isak doesn’t even bother letting him know that he needs to run to the bathroom.

Once he’s relieved himself and Even’s slipped the glass of water into his hands, the silence is palpable and awkward. _What happens now?_

“Well, what do you want to happen now?”

Isak blinks in confusion. Even’s put his hands in the pocket of his jeans as he surveys the room. “We could watch a movie. There’s this film I saw the other day that I really think you’d like. I think you’re too drunk to appreciate it, though.”

 _Oh my God,_ Isak realizes in horror. _I asked that out loud._

“I was going to say we could go on top of the roof and smoke for a while, kind of like we did that first night back in June.” Even says, grinning as the memory floods before his eyes. “But you’re definitely too drunk for that.”

Isak’s mouth is almost glued shut by horror, regret, mortification, nervousness, anxiety, and plain beer.

“But we could also just play cards. You ever play Rummy?”

Isak stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You invited me over to your apartment in the middle of the night to play _Rummy_?”

“Afraid I’m going to beat you?” Even says with a dumb smirk.

_Dumb, dumb, dumb. Isak’s the fucking master of card games – no one has to know that he cheats every single time, though._

“Bring it on Bech-Næsheim and don’t go crying to your mom when I destroy you.”

_quick, quick, quick let’s go_

_kiss me and take off your clothes_

Isak’s mother calls him over twenty times that night. Jonas texts him at least 15 messages. Mahdi even goes to the length of FaceTiming him while Magnus keeps tagging him in InstaStories, hoping it will get his attention.

He spends the night in Even’s bed, after sharing a joint despite Even’s earlier reservations. He’s on top of the blankets while Even’s underneath, softly snoring. It’s almost six in the morning but Isak hasn’t closed his eyes once. He’s always had a fickle relationship with sleep.

Soon it will be time to leave, and he’s never been one for delaying the inevitable. It’s the middle of August.

Even’s graduating after this semester – one of those lucky bastards who had enough credits to graduate early - while Isak still has another two years left. Even will soon take his creative energy and go on the adventures that really do matter. He’ll travel across the stars and meet all kinds of wonderful people who will teach him Spanish, Japanese, or French. He’ll drink the finest champagnes at Hollywood film parties, locking eyes with pretty girls across the room.

Isak won’t even be a blimp on his radar.

It’s been a long time, Isak’s not stupid. He knows there’s no such thing as forever.

 

_imagine a world like that_

But, he does think about it.

From time to time, he lets his mind wander in the most ridiculous circles – especially the nights he drinks too much beer, smokes too much weed. The nights where he watches the sky fade into a dusky blue, before the sun begins to rise. How crazy could it be? If one day, he could have this forever. Waking up next to this angel human and holding his hand, stroking the side of his face.

_How’s the film coming along, love?_

_I’ve just written the treatment and I want to die._

_You writers are all so dramatic._

_You chemists are all so mentally sane._

The stupid kind of banter that makes his heart flutter when Even texts him at 21:00 at night, ready for another adventure. The stupid kind of banter that could lead to endless mornings in the bathtub surrounded by foam bubbles and champagne bubbles.  

“I want to see the stars with you,” Isak whispers, staring at Even’s sleeping form. How heavenly it is to watch his chest rise up and down, to watch another boy look so serene while sleeping is a luxury he never thought he’d ever know.

He finds himself smiling before he realizes it will soon be time for him to leave.

It’s the middle of August.

 

_imagine a world like that_

“Isak?”

Isak looks over his shoulder, as he finishes tying up his shoes at the doorway. He hadn’t even heard Even get out of bed.

“Hi.”

“ _Voy a besar ahora.”_

**Author's Note:**

> this is so heavily plaigarized from another fanfiction of mine fjkdfd. about to go get drunk so will definitely proofread this later. maybe. who knows. i didn't even think i was ever going to write fanfiction again so 
> 
> i hope you all liked this :)  
> happy valentines day x


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